Robin

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."

What absolute bullshit. Words hurt. I'd much rather have a broken bone than this shitty broken heart.

I smash the glass cup with the bat, making Marie screech. She holds a hand out and adjusts her safety glasses. "Robin, are you sure you're alright?" She shouts as I smash another piece of glass.

"Just peachy. Couldn't be better."

"Really? You seem a bit angry."

I face her with a fake smile, lifting the bat with me. She backs up. "Do I? Do I seem angry, Marie?"

She nods and steps further back as I come closer. "Yes you do, honey. Is it about Aug-"

I point the bat at her. "Finish that sentence so I can fracture your ribs with this bat, Marie. I dare you."

Her eyes widen and she holds her hands out. "Robin, I need you to calm down, sweetheart. It's-"

My blood boils at that nickname. I turn away and pick up a mug. I smash it on the ground, making Marie flinch and screech loudly. "Do not call me that."

"Robin-"

"This is a rage room, Marie." I toss the bat in her direction. It lands on the ground with a loud thud. "Start raging."

She shakes her head. "I'm here for you, Robin. Not me."

I roll my eyes. At this point I was so furious, I couldn't care less what came out of my mouth. "You've been a shitty friend ever since you met Damien. Seriously, who sticks up for a man that cheated on their own best friend, not once, not twice, but three times?"

Her mouth goes agape and her face falls. After a moment she says, "I didn't mean it like that-"

"I can't come to you about anything anymore. Everything is always about Marie. Marie this, Marie that. Fuck Marie!" I yell and throw a glass plate at the wall.

She holds her heart. "I had no idea. Robin, I'm so sorry."

I shake my head and laugh bitterly. "God, I am so sick of that word! Everyone is always apologizing to me, yet no one actually means it."

"But I am sorry, Robin. Truly." She steps closer. "I'll be a better friend. I promise."

"You really want to be a better friend, Marie?"

"Yes."

"Pick up the bat and destroy this room with me."

She smiles and picks up the bat. Marie stands on the side of me and I fix her glasses and gloves. I pick up a stack of plates and smash the first one on the ground. Marie follows suit. Standing over a glass table, she smashes the middle of it with the bat and backs up with a squeal. "Holy cow, that felt good!"

She continues to smash the table as I throw plates across the room. After ten minutes, we switch. I hit the bat against the wall, knowing it won't break. With every hit, I imagine his stupid face. His stupid hands trailing down my body. His stupid lips kissing my neck. His stupid arms holding me.

I don't stop until I feel my arms give out. I drop the bat in defeat and as I am about to sit down, I feel Marie's hands on my back. "You can't sit down, sweetie, there's glass."

I move the hair out of my face. "Right."

I get out of her hold and lean against the wall. Closing my eyes, I exhale a deep breath. Marie touches my arm. "What do you need?"

I smile. The first one I've had since that day, which was four days ago. "A drink."

I open my eyes as she smiles and yanks my arm. "To the bar!"

Normally I would object, but right now that's exactly what I need. I needed to get sloppy drunk and pass out in my bathroom. Then maybe this aching feeling in my heart will disappear.

We stop by my house and take a shower, change clothes, and Marie tells Damien she's going out. Shortly after, we arrive at the bar. Marie sits and has two margaritas with me before she wanders off on the dance floor. After two more margaritas, my vision starts to blurry. Instead of heading home, I decide to join her.

As I rock my hips to the music, I feel someone come up behind me. He places his hand on my waist. It's nothing like August's touch. It doesn't instantly heat me up or get me flustered. Instead, the person's touch only irritates me.

"Holy shit, you are hot." The man whispers.

I roll my eyes and as I am about to walk away, I think of August and just how much he would hate this. I smirk and back up against him. "I know."

The man's grip tightens on my waist. "Confident. I dig that."

"Thanks."

His breath hits my face and I nearly gag. "There's a coffee shop nearby. How about we get out of here, yeah?"

Don't think. Just do.

I fake a smile. "Whatever you say, darling." I take his hand and pull him away.

When we make it outside of the bar, I am finally able to see his face. I gap and hold on to his arm as we walk to keep from stumbling.

I point a finger at him. "You're the photographer!"

The photographer for Damien and Marie's wedding stands in front of me with his hand on his crotch. Unbelievable.

The smirk drops from his face. Through blurry vision, I can make out an angry expression. "Look, let's just get this over with all right?"

I laugh and try to walk away. "I'm trying, I'm trying. Drinking over four margaritas does not leave a happy feeling in my body. I'll tell you that much. "

He grabs my arm tightly, making me frown. "I'm not talking about that. Just keep quiet and this can go as quickly as possible." He says. The photographer unzips his pants and moves me to an alley I didn't even know was there.

Am I just drunk, or is he trying to assault me?

I'm just drunk.

Definitely.

When he covers my mouth and bumps me against the wall, my eyes widen.

Nope, I'm not just drunk.

I scream through his hand and knee his balls. He drops his hand from my mouth and moves it to his balls. I take this chance to run, but he grabs me.

"Let me go, you son of a bitch!"

I hit him with my purse, but it does nothing. He manages to push me back against the wall. "Stay still, bitch."

Another figure appears on the side of him as I try to kick him. Before I can register what's happening, the figure hits his jaw, making him fall to the ground. I back away as he begins to punch him. When I spot blood, I run. Breathing heavily, I don't stop until I am out of the alley.

I place my hands on my knees as I try to calm down. After around two minutes, someone touches my back. I freeze and my breath hitches.

August.

I glance down the alley and see the man has vanished. August steps in front of me as I stand up. As soon as his eyes meet mine, my heart rate speeds up. "Are you okay?"

My temper sparks at his question and molten anger rolls through me. I slap him. "Fuck you!"

His head moves slightly and the side of his cheek reddens almost instantly. My mouth parts, and a mixture of fear and anger consumes me as I wait for his reaction.

His tongue goes to the side of the inside of his cheek, and his jaw tightens. He doesn't threaten or hit me like the previous men in my life. But I'm not going to praise him for the bare minimum.

"I deserve that." He mutters.

I poured my heart out to him and he shattered it. I wasn't mad that he didn't love me back. I can't force someone to love me. He's not entitled to love me. I'm mad that I let myself fall in love with him.

I shove him. "Fuck you, August!"

I shove him again.

"I hate you!"

I ball my fists and hit his chest as tears fall. "I hate you! I hate you!" I continue to his chest and he takes it. He stands there and allows me to hit him without even trying to stop me.

Tears flowing down my face, I hit him once more and grip his shirt. I lean on him, letting my tears soak the fabric of his shirt. "I hate you so much right now." I whisper. "But fuck, I love you more."

He wraps his arms around me and hugs me as I cry on him. August kisses the top of my head. "I know, baby. I know. And I'm so fucking sorry. I was stupid." He lifts my chin, allowing me to look at him. "I love-"

A car honks, making us turn to the side. Marie jumps out of a car hurriedly and rushes to me. "Oh thank goodness, I was so worried about you!" She pulls me off of him and hugs me tightly. "Don't you ever scare me like that again!"

Marie holds my hand and leads me to her car. I glance back at August and he fidgets with his hands. He opens his mouth to say something as I open the car door, but closes it and shakes his head before turning away. He begins walking away as Marie and I get inside of her car. As she starts the car, the small hopeful part of me wonders something;

Was he going to say it?